Strange Days

Nothing but strangeness, all day every day anymore.  Apparently yesterday morning my dad was in a car accident (he’s fine, thankfully).  Got a nice dose of ice and snow the night before; it sounds like he slid into the scene of a previous accident on an entrance ramp to the freeway…and hit a person…who was standing outside their car.  This person went to the hospital with non-life-threatening injuries.  To fully appreciate my dad’s utterly imperturbable equanimity (hello, department of redundancy department, how may I help you?) you must duly note my lack of exclamation points here.  I haven’t actually spoken to him myself yet – my mom told me over the phone as I was pulling into the garage last night.  I’m all, OMG IS HE OKAY?

Mom:  Yeah, he’s fine, apparently.

Me:  Is he HOME??

Mom:  No, he went to the fish fry.

Me:  He did WHAT NOW?

Mom:  Seriously.

Me:  He must be in shock.  I would be FAH-REAKING OUT still.

Mom:  I know, right?

Me:  Seriously.  I’d be traumatized.  I’d take to my bed or you would put me there via pharmaceuticals.

Mom:  Exactly.

Wait.  This makes him sound a little heartless, no?  Not at all the case.  It’s just that you can’t rattle the man.  As my friend says, he’s in a bubble.  Stuff that infuriates or unhinges most normal (ha) people just slides off, like water on a duck.  I was a bad, baaaad teenager, but I can remember him actually yelling maybe two, three times my entire life.  You pretty much have to pull a Dick Cheney to get a rise out of him.  And even then, he’ll probably just laugh at you.  Gawd, I love that man.  He’s too young to be giving me a heart attack with car accidents and shit, right?  Right?  Also, my mom does not really talk like a Valley Girl (fer shure, fer shure).  Obviously I embellished and/or simplified somewhat there.  The whole story does make me want to take to my bed, though.  I watched my dad and his siblings caring for their father as he degenerated with dementia/Alzheimer’s/whatever (I still think it was NPH)…I don’t wanna.  Gimme ten more years.  Or, even better.  Let’s just NOT.  I’m just gobsmacked at the very idea.  They’re YOUNG.  I’m YOUNG.  

Crap.  Way too deep.  Here, have some nonsensical musica with lyrics that somehow still apply to everything else I’m not gonna/can’t write about right now:

The body like soft serve, dripping down in the June sun,
I tried to shoot a thought, but the thought sunk.
Nothing to do but scratch words in the dirt and
Watch the water roll down.
Phantom kisses buzzing like the insects.
Beads of sweat dripping down on the rent check.
My Candyland melted down to syrup while I
Watched the water roll down.
And here comes the lust in phaze,
but you’re down in Marietta.
So sweet my mouth was seared,
But the words you mouthed were sweeter.
My Sister,
Your words can be held against you in a court of law.
My Sister, You owe no allegiance to the facts.
And you’re talking like the saint on the site of the accident.
Talking like the clause in the lease about the late rent.
Ringing like the random call patched to the payphone.
Talking like the water rolls down.
Talking like the saint on the site of the accident.
Talking like the botched shot, attempt on the President.
Ringing like the change in the legless man’s Dixie Cup.
Talking like the water rolls down.
Day Undone,
Day Undone,
Day Undone,
Watch the water roll down.

(Lyrics via)

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2 thoughts on “Strange Days

  1. suntzusays says:

    I'm not sure how the ice/snow factor causing accidents yesterday leads into fears of dementia. It was fairly bad out there. How was the other person (and why were they standing outside their car in any position to be struck anyway?…stay in the car or get off to the side of the road where you can get out of the way reasonably fast)

  2. LOL. No, it's not rational of me to connect the two. Just a stream of consciousness. I don't really think I have to take away his car keys any time soon. It was bad out there…effing ice. Hasn't been too long since Mom slipped on some leaving work and smacked her head on the ground (she was okay, too). Of course nobody wants to pay for that ambulance and ER trip. I keep telling her to just call OSHA (the parking lot lights weren't on). She magically now gets every weekend off, but nobody will answer her simple question "was this a work-related accident?" Charming. Exactly. No idea why they wouldn't stay in the car or further off the road. I don't know how badly they were hurt, other than non-life-threatening. Still gotta hear my dad tell the story.

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